


Line Crossing

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Her Dark Works [20]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arendelle, Camelot, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fairies, Giants, M/M, Maritime Kingdom, Mental Anguish, Neverland, Pan's Last Curse, Sacrifice, Stone Curse, The Dark One (Once Upon a Time), The Enchanted Forest, The Jolly Roger, The Seige of Camelot, Violence, dwarfs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian is devastated in the wake of Pan's Last Curse, which turned Emma Swan to stone. Is there a way to restore her? And can they find it in time to save Emma before the Dark One consumes her?</p><p><strong>Her Dark Works</strong> takes place in an alternate universe where Emma Swan was born and raised in the Enchanted Forest. One day, things go horribly wrong, and she abandons her birthright and throne to seek revenge on the Dark One. What happens when a woman born to be the Savior of the Realm joins forces with the Vengeful Pirate of Neverland?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slimy Pollywog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian seeks revenge on Arthur in order to regain the dagger. Regina, Snow, and Charming form an alliance with an enemy.

Killian stared at the mirror until the image of Emma's petrified face faded away. 

"No, no, no," he mumbled. He turned to Regina, "The Dark One can't die. You said as much. So what the bloody hell was that?"

"She's not dead, if that's what you're asking." 

"We have to get her right now," he said. 

"If you care so much about her, I suggest you start listening to her," Regina snapped. "She told us to get to Arthur."

"I won't leave Emma's body in the middle of nowhere," he said. "I won't leave her next to Pan's corpse and pretend nothing bloody happened!"

"Calm down, pirate!" she said. "I told you, she's not dead. The only thing that can kill the Dark One is the dagger. You of all people should know that. Didn't you kill the last one?"

"Aye, and not with the bloody dagger, either!"

"But the Dark One didn't die," Regina said. "It passed on into Miss Swan, which is why she's stone instead of dust. She's still alive."

"So she'll be forever a statue?" he asked. "That's alive to you?"

"We don't have time for your meltdown, Captain," she replied. "Let's go."

He clenched his jaw, misery and fury battling inside him. The turmoil kept his mind racing, and he couldn't form a thought, let alone a sentence.

"Do you want to get Emma or not?" Regina demanded.

"Aye," he replied immediately. "And, then, take me to that bastard king."

They teleported to Emma. Her battle with Pan had left an indelible mark on the landscape. The winds had torn branches from their trees and uprooted even the sturdiest of trunks. Scorches marred grass and stone alike, and patches of ice lingered, slowly melting in the night air.

Emma stood near an upturned cauldron. He put his hand on her stone shoulder, unsure if she could sense his presence.

"I won't abandon you," he said quietly.

Regina went to Pan's remains and picked up his head by the scalp. She waved her hand, and purple mists covered the gruesome sight. When it dissipated, she held a heavy iron trunk instead.

"What are you doing with that?" Killian asked.

"I for one want to make sure Pan remains dead," Regina replied. "Don't you?"

He clenched his teeth, angry that she dared think of anything other than Emma, but then he nodded his head, yes. If the little demon somehow revived or survived, then Emma's sacrifice would've been for nothing.

"Let's go," Regina said.

Purple mist surrounded them again, taking them to the hills outside Camelot. The city was dimly lit under the light of the waning moon. From their vantage point, it seemed so peaceful, so unlike a place run by a madman.

"What happened to going to Arthur immediately?" Killian snapped.

"What kind of seafarer doesn't carry a spyglass?" she replied.

He bit back his bitter retort, straining his self-control to the breaking point. Yes, Regina was terse, disrespectful, and generally made a terrible traveling companion, but she had yet to be deceitful with him.

So he found his spyglass, expanded it, and peered through it. It wasn't just the moon lighting Camelot. Torches were everywhere.

Far too many torches, in fact, for a city that was otherwise still and silent. He turned to the guard posts over the gates of the city to confirm his suspicions.

No one was keeping watch.

Before he could ask, the ground shook, and his attention turned to the far west-side of the city. His jaw dropped when he saw two giants walking in tandem, carrying carts filled with bodies.

"The giants sacked Camelot?" Killian asked, stowing his spyglass.

"Of course not," Regina replied. "Snow and Charming went to their old friends Nova and Dreamy, who rallied the dwarves and fairies to work together. They put the entire city to sleep with fairy magic, and the giants are getting the citizens of Camelot out of harm's way."

"If everyone's asleep, why are we still out here?" he demanded. "Take me to the bastard who did this to Emma!"

"Sleeping spells aren't perfect," Regina explained. "Poppy powder and fairy magic don't work on people who take certain herbs or tea daily. Others have a natural resistance."

"Without the Dark One, Arthur is no more than a cowardly old madman," Killian answered. 

"What if the dagger can penetrate stone?" Regina asked. "Or, what if she can be rescued by simply summoning her with the dagger?"

"Once we find him, the first thing we do is take the bloody dagger."

"I agree," Regina said. "But not until we see the signal?"

"Signal?" he repeated.

Regina had explained that Charming and Snow had a plan, but she hadn't provided details. He assumed she hadn't known herself but that was obviously not the case.

He wasn't sure if he should be angry or impressed.

"There it is." 

She pointed to the castle in the distance. It had become a lighter color. In just a few minutes, it seemed blue-white instead of dark gray.

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" he asked.

They disappeared in a swirl of purple mist.

 

Killian and Regina had been, searching the castle for any sign of Arthur for hours. They had landed in the Council Chambers, where Zelena, Cruella, and the Author stood like grotesque statues of themselves. Killian's stomach had dropped as he realized that Emma's last acts in this world had been to kill four people. 

He had tucked Emma's statue safely away in one of the concealed doorways nearby, along with the box containing Pan's head. Then he and Regina then scoured the castle.

The corridors were unnaturally cold and completely empty. The entire place gave off the sense of an adrift ghost ship, abandoned by her surviving crew to sink into the depths of the ocean, only to continue to float, aimlessly moving wherever the wind took it.

"This is it," Regina said. "The royal corridor."

To Killian, it looked like every other hallway they'd walked through, save for the distance between doors. Clearly the rooms were much larger here. There were over a dozen doors before them, not to mention countless places to hide, should Arthur be awake.

"I'm going to the dungeons," she whispered.

"For what, exactly?"

"Back up," Regina said quietly. "Maleficent, specifically, though I'm sure Whale will want to take his pound of flesh." 

"What about Arthur?"

"It's like you said, he's just a man, and with any luck, a sleeping man," she replied. "I'll be back before you find him."

Regina vanished in a swirl of purple smoke.

Not willing to waste another second, Killian walked quickly and silently down the hall to the largest room. It had two double doors that rose to just below the ceiling, certainly fit for a man pretending to be king.

He crept inside to find a large room with several wardrobes, a dining table, chairs, and one large bed. He checked everywhere. It was empty.

He continued to the next room, repeating his thorough inspection, no longer caring enough to shut the doors he had opened nor restore anything he moved. After the third room, he stopped trying to be quiet, throwing doors open, knocking furniture over, and tossing linens across the room.

What was the point of any of this? They find Arthur, take the dagger back, and then what? What if summoning her didn't work? What if she lived forever trapped in stone? What point would there be in silence then?

He was a fool to believe that he, a man with a blackened heart, the person who spent hundreds of years in the service of Pan so he could find a way to skin the bloody Crocodile, would ever have a happy ending. He was cursed. 

His own father said so when he was a child. Killian had snuck out of his bunk to listen to the crew talk as they played cards, but he wound up getting stuck below deck in the galley when the cook returned unexpectedly. He wasn't supposed to be out of bed, so he hid inside a partially empty cupboard.

_"That boy of yours isn't in his bunk," the cook said. "The young one. He's trouble."_

_"He's more than trouble," his father replied, his words slurred with drunkenness. "That boy is cursed. Has been since the moment he was conceived."_

_"You don't say?" the cook asked._

_"His mother nearly died at least six times when he was in her belly," his father said. "Seemed like honest accidents, but after the third, I asked her, 'Are you trying to kill our child?' Didn't make sense, though. She'd wanted another child since our first boy was born. She looked at me and said, 'I wouldn't harm a hair on_ our _child's head!' But she was terrified, like she knew the seed inside her was bad and getting worse."_

_Killian's heart pounded in his chest as his father poured out his troubles to some random cook he'd just met._

_His father continued, "After he was born, well, my wife was never quite the same. She lingered for a year or so, but she stopped living long before she gave up the ghost. Come to think of it, she'd started dying before she even knew she was pregnant with him. Then she wasted away after that boy came into the world, like he kept sucking the life out her, even after he was out of her belly. And now, no matter where I take him, no matter what I teach him, he never learns, always doing the wrong thing at the worst possible time. His brother was strong-willed at his age, but Killian? He's a bloody fool without sense in his head. Always has been. If I'm lucky, he's gotten himself above deck and fallen overboard."_

_"Meaning no disrespect," the cook said. "But, with the arrangements you asked me to make, and this story you're told me now... did you cross a witch?"_

_"I know it's bad luck to say such things," his father replied. "But I almost wish I had. Then there would be a bloody reason, but, no, I didn't."_

_Killian covered his mouth with both hands, forcing himself to remain silent despite the miserable, burning tears rolling down his cheeks. How could his father say such terrible things about him?_

_His father groaned and coughed a few times. Killian had seen his father do this before to choke back his own tears. Did that mean he still loved Killian, despite whatever curse hung over his head? Hope bloomed instantly in his chest, and he fought the urge to run into his father's arms to tell him everything would be fine._

_"You all right there?" the cook asked._

_"Yes, sorry, it's just..." his father replied. "My wife, when she died, she was so young. I sent Liam out with his baby brother, and she said to me, 'I'd never harm a hair on our child's head.' And I said, 'Aye, love, me neither.' But then she said to me, 'But him? He's the demon's...' And that was it. The light vanished from her eyes in an instant. Those were the last words she ever spoke. Her last words."_

_"What did you do?" the cook asked, clearly enthralled._

_"I thought nothing of it," his father replied. "She had been ill, and both the healer and the midwife warned me that, if she didn't get better, her mind would slip away before she did. And Killian was just a baby at the time, and Liam loved his little brother. So I did nothing. I did nothing when he toppled a carriage from the road by distracting the driver at age three. I did nothing when he nearly burnt down our home when he was four. Every accident he caused, every life he ruined, I did nothing. He's just a boy, I keep telling myself that. Even if he is cursed, it's no fault of his."_

_"Tomorrow, then," the cook said. "We can put him in a boat in the dead of night, and no one will be the wiser."_

He bit his lip as the memory haunted him. He spent years at the prow of his ship, purging that very memory from his mind. His father had been a charlatan, and more than once he earned their supper by spinning a sad tale to prey on the kindness of strangers. In that way, he had heard everything his father had said before: his mother's supposed illness, the difficult pregnancy, the accidents that plagued their family. But his father had never blamed him or Liam for their misfortunes. In fact, he and his brother had been in on it, listening with reservation, hiding their faces at the right moments and crying on cue when occasion called for it.

His father's tirade had all the hallmarks of a well-rehearsed drama. Killian had gone over the words in his head, obsessing about them, wondering if they were actually a terrible truth that his father capitalized on. But there was no way to know. Years later, when Killian finally had the courage to ask Liam, he openly denied it, reassuring his little brother that their father had lied to manipulate the cook with into stealing a boat for his own escape.

He stopped his exploration of the latest room when he realized he had been tearing it apart rather than searching it. His darkest thoughts plagued him, pushing him recklessly onward, encouraging him to lash out.

Killian held up his left hand and looked closely at it. Emma Swan had restored far more to him than the hand the Crocodile had stolen. He came all this way for her, and now was no time to let his past demons distract him.

Shouts and screams abruptly echoed everywhere, and the castle rumbled with what felt like an earthquake. He went to the window and saw Zelena fighting Regina in the courtyard, fireballs flying everywhere.

He didn't waste time thinking. He gripped his cutlass tightly and ran back the way they came, going down stairwells and corridors as fast as humanly possible until he reached the door of the Council Chamber. He checked on Emma, who was still a statue, before following the sounds of discord.

Charming and Snow were toe-to-toe with Cruella, who kept them at bay with a cloud of insects.

Before he could intervene, he caught sight of Arthur sprawled out on the ground, his kingly attire ripped and bloody, crawling away from the fight.

He was still bloody alive.

Killian attacked, kicking him hard in the side, forcing Arthur to flip over onto his back. He had the dagger clenched so tightly in his hands that his bloodied knuckles were white.

"Dark One! I summon you!" Arthur shouted. "You must obey me! Dark One! Dark One!"

But nothing happened.

Killian pointed his cutlass beneath Arthur's chin, pressing the blade against his neck just enough to draw blood.

"Give me the dagger!" Killian demanded.

"Like I'd ever give the dagger to a pirate!" Arthur spat back.

He resisted the urge to slit his throat and be done with it. Maybe it was because Emma Swan had changed him, or perhaps remembering his own father disappearing without an explanation made him sympathetic to Duke Taio. Arthur might be a madman, but Taio? No, he deserved answers, should the bastard king have any left in him.

Killian sheathed his blade and grabbed Arthur by the neck, clenching hard to cut off his supply of air. Arthur struggled weakly, and Killian easily overcame him, wresting the dagger from his hands.

The dagger was different, though. The name on the handle had faded, like markings on parchment left out too long in the sun.

"No, no, no!" Arthur wailed. "My destiny! I was destined to destroy the darkness! It was written! It was written!"

"Your destiny? That's what this was about?" Killian demanded as he dragged Arthur to his feet by his collar. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"You can't stop me!" Arthur continued as if Killian hadn't spoken. "You might have the dagger, but my destiny can't be changed! Not by some bastard pirate and his doxy!"

Killian landed a hard punch to his stomach, successfully silencing the man as he doubled over in pain. Then he yanked him into the hallway, dragging him up the corridor to where he had hidden Emma.

He kicked Arthur's legs out from under him before he tore down the curtain hiding her statue. He used the material to bind Arthur's hands behind his back as the former king stuttered in horror. 

"Can't be," he mumbled. "My destiny... no, my destiny..."

"Look at her!" Killian barked. "Look at what you did to her!"

Arthur replied, "Me? Me? I did nothing!"

"You ordered her to kill Pan!" he replied. "You did that, and once he was dead, this happened to her. All because of you and your bloody destiny!"

"She can't be dead," Arthur said. "She freed the three she turned to stone! This is just some trick! Some pirate trick!"

His insides turned cold. As old legend had it, any spell or curse without counter came undone when the sorcerer who cast it died. 

But Emma wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. 

Arthur had fallen into complete incoherence, so Killian knocked him out with a blow to the head.

"Emma?"

He turned to see Snow and Charming, slightly battered, standing with a chained Cruella.

"No," Charming said as he went to his daughter. "No, this can't be."

"What happened?" Snow asked.

"Pan's Last Curse," Killian replied. "Whoever kills him dies. Except, the Dark One can't die, so - "

Cruella's laughter, cold and cruel, interrupted him, and he saw nothing but red. He drew his cutlass had it at her throat in an instant.

"You find Emma's fate funny, witch?" he snarled.

"Oh, darling, look at me," Cruella replied without a hint of fear. "I'm not laughing at the Dark One's situation, not at all. Having recently survived a similar predicament, I'm actually quite sympathetic."

"Then why the bloody hell are you laughing?"

"Because, darling, I'm your only hope," she replied.

"What are you talking about?" Charming asked. "Captain, please. She's in chains."

Killian stepped back and returned his sword to its sheath.

"Cruella?" Snow asked. "Our only hope of what?"

"Why, saving your daughter, of course."

"How?" Charming asked.

"It's simple, really," the witch replied. "To save her, you'll need a counter spell to break Pan's Last Curse, and for that, you'll need to know the spell he used in the first place. From there, it's all downhill, gathering ingredients and mumbling incantations. Isn't that right, Regina?"

Killian hadn't noticed her approach, but Regina had joined them with Maleficent and Lily at her side.

"Where's Zelena?" Snow asked.

"She got away," Regina replied. "What nonsense is Cruella spouting now?"

"She says she knows the curse Pan used," Charming replied.

"Oh, please," Maleficent said. "As if Pan would tell her about it?"

"Oh, not me, darling," Cruella replied. "That would've been shockingly poor judgment on his part. No, Pan didn't tell a soul about it. Cast the spell himself in the darkest part of Neverland, where prying eyes can't reach."

"You told us you knew," Charming protested.

"Actually, I said I was your last hope," she replied. "Entirely true, by the way. I'm the only one who can convince him to help the likes of you."

"No," Maleficent said. "No, don't listen to her."

"If you want your daughter to remain as some stone gargoyle in some castle courtyard, then by all means, ignore me," Cruella said. "But Pan was meticulous and paranoid. He collected the ingredients over hundreds of years. He crafted his own spell and burned the only parchment on which it was written. The only living person who can tell you about it is the man who wrote the story of Peter Pan nearly dying at the hands of a mortal."

"Who wrote... what are you talking about?" Regina asked. "Pan has suffered few injuries and even fewer defeats. If some mortal had gotten the better of Pan, I'd know about it."

"But would you, darling?" Cruella asked. "Even if Pan decided no one would find out? It happened so very long ago, before our time, as they say."

"If Pan himself decided no one would find out, and his spell was cast in so secret a place," Killian began, his words low and harsh. "Then tell me, witch, how did you discover any of this?"

"Like I said, from the man who wrote the story," she replied. "It's too bad he was imprisoned before he published it."

"You bitch!" Maleficent said. "Was this your plan the whole time?"

"I'm flattered, of course, but I've had indulged in far too much gin to plan this far ahead."

"Mal, who is she talking about?" Regina asked.

"The Author," Maleficent replied.

"The _former_ Author," said a man who stepped out from the shadows. "He abused his power and lost his right to use that title."

"But he didn't lose his power," Cruella said with a smirk. "So he had to be locked away."

"Who are you?" Charming asked, pointing his sword at the stranger.

"My name is August Booth," he replied. "I'm the Author."

"How do we undo Pan's Last Curse?" Killian asked. "If the last Author knew, then surely you must."

August shook his head, no. "If it's true the story wasn't published, then it was probably one of the ones he meddled in," he explained. "That's the Author's power. To, uh, well, streamline a story. Make real life a bit more neat."

"You can alter reality?" Killian asked. "Then free Emma from this curse."

"I can't," August replied. "It doesn't work like that. Even if I could, I wouldn't. The Author isn't meant to alter things like that. It's all adding a special family ring to link the story together and stuff like that. The biggest thing I ever did was make it rain at the right time. You know, pathetic fallacy and all that."

"If he's telling the truth, then Cruella is right," Maleficent said. "The previous Author is our only shot at reversing Pan's Last Curse."

"You can't," August said. "You can't do it. Isaac Heller will do far worse things that anything you could ever imagine."

"Don't include all of us in your lack of imagination," Cruella said.

"Shut up," Killian snapped. 

"What if we promised you that he wouldn't?" Charming asked.

"The Sorcerer and his Apprentice locked him away for a reason," August replied. "Even they couldn't take away his power, so unless you plan to execute him - "

"No," Snow interrupted. "No, but we can exile him. Once Emma is better, she can use her shadow to send Cruella and Isaac to a Land without Magic."

"Oh, please," Cruella groaned.

August didn't seem convinced, so Maleficent added, "I owe these people for bringing me home and getting me out of that dungeon. I'm his jailer. Trust me, he won't escape."

"What if he figures out a way back here?" August asked. "Or any realm with magic? We can't risk it."

Killian snapped. He was on the coward in an instant, his cutlass forgotten as he beat August with his bare hands.

"Enough, Captain!" Regina shouted as she flicked her wrist and sent him flying across the room.

"He has the means to save Emma, but he's too much a coward to do it!" Killian shouted.

Charming put his hand on Killian's shoulder to stop him from going after August again. His expression was intense, and something about it reminded him of Liam.

"Let us handle this," Charming said. "Will you stay with Emma? I don't want to leave her alone."

Exhaustion had taken its toll on him. He was too tired to argue, let alone to beat August into helping them. So he nodded his head, yes, on the hope that Charming and Snow wanted their daughter back as much as he did.

He sank to the floor by Emma's feet, less than a stone's throw from the others. As he stared up at her, he listened.

"You said your name was August?" Snow asked. "That's not your real name, though, is it? Not the name your parents gave you when you were born."

"It's a pen name," August replied.

"What's your real name?"

"By your standards, I don't have one."

"Of course," Charming said. "I thought I recognized that string around your neck. The Marionette Line."

"I'm human," August protested. "I only wear it to remind me of my father."

"Pinocchio?" Snow asked. "After your father died, you disappeared."

"There wasn't any reason to go on as Pinocchio after my papa passed," he replied. "So what? You think us having a history will change how dangerous Isaac Heller is? It doesn't."

"No, but how can you, of all people, doubt the future?" Charming asked. "Your father wanted a child so much that he carved you. There was no hope of you becoming alive. It was impossible, yet here you are, his son, flesh from wood, his dream come to life."

"You're comparing having a child to freeing a villain and hoping he won't do bad things," August protested. "One is obviously more dangerous than the other."

"You're forgetting how you first came alive," Snow said. "You were in a hunting lodge, surrounded by trophies that came to life because of the string you wear around your neck. Chimera, lions, wolves, elk... they attacked, and you saved so many people by taking that string and running with it. You risked it, knowing you might be trampled or mauled or suddenly become un-alive again. Are you trying to tell me that wasn't dangerous?"

There was a tremendous silence, and Killian's heart sank. He looked up at Emma's face, wondering if she could hear them. Did she know they were fighting for her? Did she know that he wouldn't abandon her? Or was she asleep now, slumbering in her stony prison?

"If he tries to escape or take any kind of transport with him, you have to execute him," August said. "Him and Cruella both. Make sure he knows it."

"We will, we promise," Charming said. "And don't worry, even with Emma in her current state, we have five sorceresses on our side."

"So what do you say, Cruella?" Regina asked. "Will you accept our terms?"

"Darling, so long as I get my Author, everything's peachy."

 

Killian didn't leave Emma's side. He must've drifted off to sleep at some point, as the rays of the sun woke him.

Maleficent and August both had old, rustic-looking keys, and Cruella gave instructions on finding a particular book she stowed safely. Once Regina returned with it, they gathered in the corridor near Emma.

Regina opened the book and held it out, and Maleficent and August took their keys and plunged them into the page. They simultaneously turned their wrists, and the book shook violently. A beam of light erupted out of it, and moments later, a man exploded from the seams, dressed in a gray suit and tie.

"Whew," the man said. "I'll say, that was quite the squeeze."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pollywog is a sailor hasn't crossed the equator.


	2. Trusty Shellback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of the former Author, Isaac Heller, Killian seeks a vital ingredient for the spell to counter Pan's Last Curse. Emma struggles against the darkness within.

Isaac Heller was a complete ass. Once he learned the reason for his newly found freedom, he attempted to negotiate. Killian had his cutlass to his throat in a heartbeat, reminding him that his freedom wasn't the only thing he had to lose.

Snow and Charming intervened, shoving Killian away from the sniveling idiot.

Maleficent and the Charmings hauled Isaac away, leaving Killian with Emma's statue.

He was bitter, tired, and worried, though part of him knew he should have more faith in her parents. After all, they had arranged the first successful attack on Camelot since Arthur drew the sword from the stone over fifty years ago. People were already calling it the Siege of Camelot.

Killian thought it was a misnomer. At the least, it was the only siege he'd ever heard of that had no casualties.

Snow and Charming rallied a force beyond the giants, fairies, dwarves. They led soldiers from their own kingdom, Arendelle, and at least three others. Not to mention the Maritime Kingdom, which provided a blockade with the support of Ursula and the Sea Kingdom.

All of Sherwood Castle, including the Merry Men and the Werewolves, marched with a ragtag troop let by none other than Lumiere. Taio's youngest brother, King Naveen, rode in at the head of a tremendous Maldonia force.

The fairies flew overhead and put everyone in Camelot to sleep, and once the city was secured, Elsa and Ingrid froze the castle to ensure Arthur couldn't escape.

It was a cunning strategy, and uniting so many different groups into a singular plan in such a short time was an impressive feat. But it wasn't enough.

In the end, they were too late to prevent Emma Swan's demise.

He forced himself to believe that they could still save her because, if he didn't, he'd go mad.

* * *

Emma was a statue. She was keenly aware of that much, but she wasn't clear on how or why. She felt disconnected from the world, like she was observing everything from very far away. Her magic, the magic she was born with, was stagnant inside her, yet the darkness held its own.

She felt it within, the cold and the shadows clouding her mind and senses. If she let herself, she could hear whispering inside her head, thoughts that were not her own. They were weak, harsh, and terrifying, so she shut them out and focused on the man at her feet.

He had been with her for hours. About thirty minutes ago, he began humming a lively tune, despite his obvious melancholy.

"Hurry up," Regina barked.

Isaac was hurried into view, shoved ahead by Maleficent and led by Regina. She had only seen a brief glimpse of the man before, and now that she had a better look at him, she didn't like him one bit. He gave her the impression of a chicken that thought it was a hawk.

"We've come to terms," Maleficent said. "Snow said she'd handle the arrangements while we deal with him."

"Did he tell you about the spell Pan used?" Killian asked.

"I told them I'd only talk with you," Isaac answered. "The spell itself was nothing special, your basic revenge curse, taking a life for a life. The problem is the final ingredient."

"The sacrificial binding element," Regina added.

"That's right."

"That's hardly an obstacle," Regina continued. "Blood for blood, marrow for marrow, limb for limb."

"Yes and Pan understood that," Isaac explained. "And he would never let it be that easy. Should his killer survive, he wanted to ensure their revival came at the ultimate price."

"A life for a life," Regina said.

"Yes and no," Isaac said. "It's not quite that simple."

Killian asked, "What was Pan's ingredient?"

"His heart," Isaac replied. "But like I said, it's not that simple. After the attempt on Pan's life, his assailant returned his heart to him. So, in order to counter the curse and save your friend, someone must sacrifice something as precious, singular, and irreplaceable as Pan's own heart, and whatever it is must have been restored by her," Isaac replied. He examined Emma's statue for a moment and added, "How did she survive, exactly?"

"She's the Savior of the Realm and the Dark One," Regina replied.

"Oh, my, that sounds, well, complicated," Isaac said. "When you say the Dark One, you mean THE Dark One?"

"Aye, what of it?" Killian asked.

Isaac replied, "Well, it's just unexpected. Surprising. And a bit of a complication."

"Elaborate," Killian said tersely. "Now."

"Oh, nothing too serious. I mean, not a deal breaker. It's just... whatever sacrifice is made, it has to be something she restored when she was the Dark One, assuming she hasn't always been," Isaac said. "And I recommend you do it soon, and by that I mean by midnight, or not at all."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing against your friend, but the immortal keeping her alive is the Dark One," Isaac replied. "With age, the Dark One consumes it's host. This curse accelerates that process considerably."

"From, what, hundreds of years to days?" Killian sneered.

"Oh, goodness, no," Isaac replied. "More like hundreds of years to twenty-four hours."

"The spell takes twelve hours to brew," Regina said harshly. "By the time it's ready, it'll be too late."

Killian struck swiftly, and neither witch made a move to stop him. He grabbed the shifty former Author and slammed into a nearby wall, putting his forearm across Isaac's neck to hold him in place.

"Do you mean to tell us that Emma will die because you wasted hours pleading for whatever trinkets you could get?"

"Hey!" Isaac shouted. "Hey! I didn't know she was the Dark One! Someone should've mentioned that sooner!"

Killian tightened his grip on the man, lifting him so his feet were dangling off the floor.

"And, hey!" Isaac continued. "Twenty-four isn't, you know, set in stone, if you'll pardon the expression. It varies from person to person. I'm sure the Savior of the Realm could last a good thirty-six or forty-eight hours."

Her pirate released Isaac and shoved him away. Maleficent grabbed him and tied his hands together.

"How long until we need the last ingredient?" Killian asked Regina.

"If I start right now, we'll need to add it in just under twelve hours," she replied. "But there is no point in starting without it. The spell won't work."

"Start the brew," he said.

"I'll admit, I don't know Miss Swan that well," Regina said. "But I know she wouldn't want anyone to sacrifice themselves for her."

"Aye, but Pan's Last Curse doesn't require a life for a life," Killian said. "The little demon wouldn't let it be that simple, but his attempt to complicate matters has provided a loophole."

"A what?" Isaac asked. "Where?"

"You said it had to be precious, one of a kind," Killian replied. "I assume an artifact would qualify in place of a heart."

"No," Isaac blundered. "I mean, technically, yes, but... it has to be a genuine sacrifice. Whatever is given up has to be irreplaceable. Literally."

"Happily, we have quite a fine number of items to choose from," the pirate said. "Start the potion, Regina. I'll acquire the ingredient."

Emma's heart began to race. She had returned a number of powerful, unique objects to their owners, but only one of them fit Isaac's constraints: the Helm of Darkness. She reached out to Killian with her concern, her fear, knowing he couldn't hear her.

But then the oddest thing happened. He turned to her with the most curious expression, like he felt her anxiety and wanted to comfort her.

"Worry not, love," he said to Emma. "I'll tread lightly, I promise. We'll get you out of there. You have my word."

"Captain, she can't hear you," Regina pointed out. 

"Actually, she can," Isaac interrupted. "The Dark One doesn't sleep, and the curse would leave her conscious. So, she can hear you and even see you if you're in her line of vision."

"I'll be back," Killian repeated.

 

After Maleficent hauled Isaac away, Regina brought a cauldron into the hall and readied it with magic. Then she prepared the brew to counter Pan's Last Curse.

Emma thought Regina, of all people, would understand. Freeing her from stone meant freeing the Dark One, and there was no cure for that plight. The light magic inside her was weak, dying, and the darkness expanded into those vacated parts of her. Maybe they could save her life, but what if her magic didn't come back? What if she was cursed to be the Dark One, and only the Dark One, forever?

Emma tried to reach out and connect to Regina, to Killian, to anyone to beg them to stop.

 _It's too late,_ Emma thought. _It's too late for me. Don't let Killian go to the Underworld again! Hades will just kill him this time. I'm already lost. Isaac made up that thing about me surviving longer than other people. It's too late, I can feel it._

But her message never escaped her stone prison. Killian's uncanny ability to read her emotions didn't extend to her thoughts. After he left, she was filled with an increasing panic born of abandonment, and it was quickly escalating to insanity.

Regina cleared her throat, drawing Emma from her thoughts.

"Miss Swan," Regina spoke with a formal air. "I've started the spell that will revive you, but it takes time. The dagger is safe with your parents until the Captain returns. I know you can hear me, but I can't tell if you're listening. I hope you are."

Regina took a breath and adjusted her composure. Then she continued, "You might not believe me, but I know what it's like. I'll spare you the torrid details, but when I was banished to Neverland, I came into contact with a poison cultivated from a few rare trees that grew in the Dark Hollow. Even the tiniest amount rendered a person paralyzed but completely awake. It left me helpless, unable to anything but move my eyes for hours, but that wasn't the worst thing about it. The poison didn't temper my magic. Instead, it created, a kind of barrier between me and the rest of the world. Magic runs on emotions. Light magic from love and joy, and dark magic from anger and hatred. But the magic that comes from fear? From terror? It's powerful, maybe as powerful as the magic that comes from love. And as I lay there, paralyzed and terrified at every sound, my magic became extremely potent and incredibly destructive. But it had nowhere to go, and it was too powerful to dissipate and fizzle out. So it did the only thing it could do. It fed on me."

Regina took another moment to bite back whatever feelings her little speech had drummed up.

"So I know what you're going through, Miss Swan," Regina continued. "You probably feel defeated, empty, hopeless, maybe even like you're losing your mind. I certainly did. But once the poison was out of my system, I went back to my old self. I didn't believe it was possible. The voices in my head kept saying there was no going back. But those were lies. So whatever battle is going on inside you, don't give up. Keep fighting Miss Swan. For Henry's sake." 

Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. How could Regina compare the two of them? Her own magic might've torn her apart, but it was her magic. The Dark One grafted itself onto Emma, making her part of it, not the other way around, and when it fed on her, it devoured her.

She could feel it. The voices in her head were growing stronger, and there was nothing to be done about it.

"Emma," Ingrid said.

She hadn't noticed Ingrid's arrival, but an odd thing happened when she looked at her friend's face. The whispers declined until they were little more than wind howling outside a closed iron door.

"Regina and the Captain told us everything," Ingrid explained. "The spell to free you will take a few hours, and, since you can hear us, I thought you might want some company in the meantime."

Ingrid told her all about the two weddings of Prince Neal Leopold and Princess Rosa. Apparently, they couldn't decide where to have the nuptials, so Queen Eva II and Queen Eva both hosted one. Emma found the entire story amusing. Leave it to her brother to have two weddings for his marriage, and now that her parents were back, he'd probably want a third.

As Ingrid left, her father showed up with a basket of flowers, which he placed at her feet.

"Someone asked to see you," Charming said. "Kept asking to see you, actually. He said he needed to speak with you before you were revived. I refused, but your mother... well, you know your mother. He'll only be here for a minute, Emma, I promise, then he's going to be locked in a dungeon forever."

She didn't understand why he was so anxious about it. She was a captive audience, after all.

But then she heard chains rattling. Disgust overwhelmed her as she saw Arthur approach, bounded and flanked by six guards. Her father stepped aside, allowing Arthur to come closer, and the hatred inside of her burned hot.

The whispering grew louder, and cold laughter filled her head when Arthur tried to come even closer, only to be pulled back by his chains. He spoke, but Emma couldn't hear him, not over the voices in her head, which finally were loud enough to overwhelm the outside world. Every moment she saw his face, her wrath grew, and the darkness rose with it.

"Mom? Mom!"

It was Henry. Her Henry. He and her mother approached with their own flower baskets, which they placed next to Charming's. His father joined them. They stood together, smiling at her, and slowly, her fury abated. 

Henry told her about all the books August had, and her parents assured her that they were all age-appropriate. Her son then began to talk about all the things he learned in a Land without Magic, and she watched as he explained to her the infrastructure of the cities there. His eyes lit up passion and wonder. He might be talking about sewage, pipes, and other things that were dull to the casual observer. But to Henry, it wasn't about doing something people would praise him for, it was about making their kingdom a better place. He believed he could provide indoor plumbing for everyone, not just the castles and the fortresses, but for farms and villages as well. Her parents supported and encouraged him, and his determination grew.

Emma wished, just for a moment, that she hadn't renounced her title. Not for herself, but for Henry. Removing herself from the royal line meant that none of her descendants, not even Henry, could ever be heir to the throne. The other royals of the Enchanted Forest would never consider him royalty, either, so despite his leadership, intelligence, capabilities, and genuine concern for his kingdom, he would never have the chance to rule it.

"We need to get Henry to bed," Snow said. "He promised us he'd at least try to sleep tonight if he got to see you."

"But, Grandma - " Henry began.

"Come on, kid," Charming interrupted. "We're not the only ones who want to talk with your mom."

"Bye, mom," Henry said quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. In the flesh."

He gave her a hug before he left, and she longed to feel his arms around her. Then Henry kissed her on the cheek. When he pulled away, she saw disappointment on his face.

"Henry?" Snow asked.

"You said True Love's Kiss can break any curse," Henry replied.

"It can," Charming said. "But your mom is inside stone, so - "

"It's okay, grandpa," Henry interrupted. "I had to try. Don't worry, mom. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Her father hadn't been kidding about others wanting to see her. After taking a potion to make them average-sized, the giants visited her to thank her for rescuing them. Jefferson showed up with his adult daughter, Grace, and together they told her the story of their reunion. Lumierre came with those she rescued from being inanimate objects, as did old friends from all over the Enchanted Forest. According to Queen Elsa, the fairies made it possible by finding and transporting people from all over the realm.

It was certainly a kind gesture, but it felt like a goodbye, as if she had somehow attended her own funeral. All the kind things people said to her, all the encouragement, served to make her feel more defeated.

So, when the corridor became empty in the dead of night, she was relieved. Regina was at the cauldron, checking its progress.

Killian joined her, and Emma's heart skipped a beat.

"Captain," Regina said. "We need the last ingredient. Soon."

"Aye," he replied. "I need you to tell me if any of this will work."

"Tell me about each item."

"This pocket watch contained a man called Jefferson," he explained. "Emma freed him, and he reunited with his daughter."

"Were you even listening to Isaac?" Regina demanded. "We don't have time for wishful thinking!"

"But we have time for your sarcasm?" he spat back. "Speak plainly, and quickly, Regina."

"It has to be something Emma restored to someone, pirate," Regina explained. "Not something she freed them from. Jefferson would have to give his life, not this pocket watch."

"That would likewise disqualify the urn that ensnared Ingrid and Sidney's mirror," Killian said miserably. "Not to mention Lumiere's people, Ursula's mother, and even the bloody giants."

"If she rescued them, then, yes," Regina said. "Unless you think one of them would die for her."

"She'd never ask it of them," Killian replied. "Neither will I." 

"Tell me you have something else."

"Aye, the Helm of Darkness," he replied. "Unfortunately, the man who has it has been unreachable. There's no way to get to it without him."

"It would be useless if you stole it," she said. "It's a sacrifice, Captain. It must be given willingly, and we only have an hour before the sacrifice needs to be made. Otherwise, I have to start all over, and by then we might be too late. So please tell me you have something."

"Aye, I do," he said. "Can you give me a moment with Emma?"

"Of course."

Killian approached her, and she dreaded what he was about to say.

"Don't worry, love," he said. "In less than two hours, you'll be all right. I didn't force anybody into this, Swan. All I did was ask if they'd help you, and all of them came. I need you to know that, and I need you to keep fighting. Just a few more hours, and you'll be reunited with your family all over again. Don't worry, Swan, not about me or anything else."

He touched her face before pulling her into an embrace she couldn't feel. He whispered, "I hid your dagger aboard the Jolly. There's a hollow space in the main mast. I've no doubt you'll find it."

He released her and stepped back. "Good night, Swan," he said before walking away.

Her heart plummeted at his goodbye because that's what was: his farewell. He wouldn't ask anyone to give their life for her because he planned to give his own, and no matter how much she begged him not to, he couldn't hear her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shellback is a sailor who has crossed the equator at least once at sea.


	3. Old Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma faces her inner demons and finds something of an inner angel. Will she survive the sacrifice required to revive her? Can she still fight the Dark One with its new foothold within her?

Regina didn't return after Killian left, so for the first time in hours, Emma was alone. She tried to focus on her future with Henry and her parents, but all she could think about was Killian dying for her to have that future. And with that came an image of Arthur's face, elevating her misery and rage at the same time. She would destroy that man if it was the last thing she ever did.

"It won't be," someone said.

The speaker was a woman with gilded scales. There was something deeply familiar about her. It was unnerving. 

"Killing Arthur," the woman continued. "It won't be the last thing you do. I can promise you that."

 _Who are you?_ Emma thought.

"Don't you know?" the woman replied.

_You can hear me?_

"Of course I can hear you," she replied. "I'm not actually here. Just in your head. Speak."

"I can't," Emma protested.

Her lips didn't move, yet she had spoken.

"I have to tell them to stop," Emma said. "If you can hear me, then so can they. They need to leave me like this."

"They can't hear you," the woman said. "I can, but, to the rest of the world, you are a mute statue."

"Can they hear you?" Emma asked. "Can't you tell them - "

"No," the woman interrupted. "Only you can see and her me, Emma."

"Why? Who are you?"

"My name is Nimue, and, in a way, I'm part of you."

"You're the Dark One," Emma said when she recognized the name.

"The first Dark One," Nimue said. "I've been here this whole time, but I haven't been able to appear to you. But now, Emma, you are finally ready to hear what I have to say. It's only taken a millennium or two."

"Millennium?" she repeated.

Nimue nodded. Then she said, "You know what it means to the Dark One, Emma, even as a statue. Especially as a statue, in fact. You heard your friends, if you can call them that. You know their plan, and you know what the price of freeing Emma Swan and the Dark One from this stone state is. And you know who's going to pay it."

"Killian," Emma mumbled.

"I know how you feel," Nimue said. "I'm not speaking empathetically. After I became the Dark One, I ridded myself of such distractions. No, I mean, we are so deeply connected through the Dark One that I feel the things you feel."

"What do you want?" Emma asked. "Why are you here?"

Nimue replied, "I know it's difficult, Emma, but once your pirate is gone, you'll finally understand who and what you are. You won't be afraid of yourself anymore. You'll reforge Excalibur, as you were always meant to, using the Spark of Life buried deep inside of you. Inside of us. All of us, the entire line of Dark Ones, from me the first, to you the last and most powerful Dark One of all time. I could tell you that this is your destiny, but that's not why you will do it. No, you will do this to protect your son."

"I'd rather die that live as the Dark One," Emma replied. "If our connection was really so deep, you would know that."

"Have you ever witnessed a butterfly emerge from its cocoon?" Nimue asked. "Beautiful, delicate, marvelous. We say all magic comes at a price, but nature is no different. That butterfly came at a cost, namely the caterpillar. It willingly entered its chrysalis to undergo metamorphosis, but when the butterfly emerges, that crawling insect is gone forever. Only the butterfly remains."

She paused and gave Emma a wide smile. "This statue is your chrysalis, and when it splits open, Emma Swan, the Dark One, will emerge. But, like the caterpillar, Emma Swan, the Savior of the Realm, will be gone forever."

"You're lying," Emma hissed, trying to block Nimue out.

"Am I?" Nimue asked. "When did you last sense your light magic, Emma? Seconds ago? Minutes? Hours? Days?"

"Shut up!"

"The Savior of the Realm died at the hands of Pan's Last Curse," Nimue continued. "Accept that, Emma. Accept that you are the Dark One. Embrace it. It is the only way to keep your family safe."

Then she vanished, leaving Emma with crushing doubt and no small amount of panic, for she hadn't felt her own magic for a very long time, not since a few hours after the curse hit her. If they freed her and her inborn magic didn't return, how could she resist the sway of the Dark One?

"The same way you always have," someone said.

Emma's shadow-self appeared. Her pale skin and hair shimmered in the moonlight.

"Did you hear her?" her shadow-self asked.

"About being the Dark One, yeah, loud and clear," Emma replied. "I don't need an encore."

"No, about the Spark of Life," her shadow-self replied. "Nimue stole it a long time ago and buried it deep inside herself, passing it down to each Dark One in turn. Can you feel it?"

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked. "Didn't you hear her? Killian is going to die to free me, and when I'm free, I'll only be the Dark One!"

"No," her shadow-self said. "You will be Emma Swan. Before you were Princess Emma, before you were Henry's mother, before you were the Savior of the Realm, you were Emma Swan. You will always be Emma Swan."

"I was Princess Emma before I became Emma Swan," she replied. "And what does it matter, anyway? It's not Emma Swan I'm worried about, it's Emma Swan, the Dark One."

"That's exactly what Nimue and the others want you to think," her shadow-self replied. "They want you to be afraid of the Dark One because if you're not absolutely horrified by the darkness, you just might learn the truth."

"What truth?"

"The Dark One is terrified of you," her shadow-self replied with a wicked smile. "The Dark One's boogeyman, the thing they fear most isn't the heroes, Princess Emma, or the Savior of the Realm but Emma Swan. Didn't you hear Nimue call you the last Dark One?"

"She meant current Dark One."

"No, she didn't."

"Does that mean the curse of the Dark One can be ended?" Emma asked.

Her shadow-self replied, "The Spark of Life can reforge Excalibur, and do you know why Excalibur was forged?"

"To destroy the evils threatening Camelot."

"No, to cut away the magic and immortality given by the Grail from which it was formed. Nimue drank from that cup. The dagger binds and controls the Dark One, but it's not strong enough to cut the darkness away. That's why whoever kills the Dark One becomes the Dark One. When you're free, go deep within yourself and find the Spark of Life. Reforge the sword and cut the curse of the Dark One away forever."

"You don't understand! None of you do!" Emma said. "All magic comes with a price. Freeing me is going to cost Killian's life, so what will reforging the sword cost? My parents? Henry?"

"No, never - "

"How do I know you're not Nimue wearing my face?" Emma shouted. "If you can stop them from freeing me, then do it. If not, then leave, and never come back!"

Her shadow-self faded away, but she didn't vanish. She was like a ghost. She came as close as possible to Emma's ear.

"You don't need to trust me. Trust your heart," her shadow-self whispered. "That good heart you've always had. The heart that your parents gave you, the heart that Henry, Neal, and Killian protected. Trust yourself. And if you can't, if you can't find it in yourself to trust your own heart any longer, then have faith in Captain Killian Jones. After all, he's the reason for all of this. Once you're free, find me. I'll be in Neverland. I promise you, I will tell you everything."

"I don't want to know everything," Emma said. "I want Killian to live."

There was no reply. Her shadow self was gone.

* * *

Killian removed his long leather jacket and stored it inside the wardrobe of his guestroom. He had spent nearly ten hours traveling with the fairy Nova, collecting people those who might sacrifice on Emma's behalf.

In truth, he had only done it to appease Snow and Charming, who insisted he give others the opportunity to help Emma, even when he explained that no one met the requirements laid out by Isaac.

Except Hades, but he rather doubted that the Ruler of the Underworld would willingly part with an artifact as valuable as the Helm of Darkness.

He rolled up his sleeves and adjusted his collar before he swept out of the room and into the corridor, heading toward the Council Chambers.

"Cutting it close, Captain," Regina said as he approached. 

"Is there time enough for me to have another moment with Emma?" he asked. 

"So long as it's only a minute."

* * *

Emma's heart pounded hard in her chest as Killian approached.

"Moment of truth, love," he said. "I thought you might want some time alone when this was all over, so I made arrangements aboard the Jolly. If you need to, go on ahead, I'll meet you there later."

His last comment confused her. He was the only one here beside Regina, and as far as Emma knew, she couldn't save her. How could he meet her later if he was dead?

He walked back to the cauldron and drew his blade, confirming her suspicion. He turned his head and gave her a lopsided smirk.

Then he turned his back to her, possibly to spare her the sight. He held his left arm over the cauldron, and then in on swift movement, he cut off his hand above the wrist, and a horrible splash sounded before his scream became the only thing she heard.

If she could move, her eyes would've gone wide. Something singular and irreplaceable that Emma Swan restored as the Dark One. Killian's hand qualified. 

Why hadn't she thought of that?

She didn't have time to think because she saw him hit his knees, and the only thought in her head was, 'Why hasn't Regina healed him yet?'

Then smoke and mist rose from the cauldron and billowed toward her, obscuring her view of Killian. The full weight of the spell hit her, and in the next instant, her lungs filled with air as she gasped for breath. It was like fire and ice in her chest. She collapsed to the floor.

Her mind was reeling. All of her senses kicked into high gear as life returned to her body. The cool night air felt like freezing water cascading all around her. The sound, the smell, and even the sight of the fog overwhelmed her. 

Emma screamed as she curled up into fetal position.

"Emma! Emma!" Killian shouted.

She saw him rushing toward her, and it was like a thousand remedies pouring into her. He held his left arm in his right, keeping the cauterized stump elevated, and something inside her cracked. She cried.

"Emma, love, are you all right?" he asked as he crouched down next to her.

She started laughing uncontrollably through her tears. The man who just cut off his own hand was asking her if she was all right.

She wasn't sure how long she was like that, curled up on the floor, sobbing and laughing and gasping for breath, but when it was over and her body finally relaxed, he was still there next to her.

"Swan?" he asked, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "Are you all right?"

"No," she replied, not willing to look him in the eye. "I thought I was different."

"Different? Different from who?"

"The Dark Ones that came before me," she replied. "One Dark One took your hand. When I gave it back to you, I... I thought that made me different, better than the others."

"Aye, love, you are."

"No, I'm not."

The expression on his face was hard to read. It fell somewhere between dark musing and concern. He got to the ground slowly, curling around her until his body enveloped hers. Then he touched their foreheads together.

"I can't fix your hand again," she whispered. "It's gone forever, Killian. Another Dark One took it. Me. I took it."

"No, Swan," he replied. "Had you taken my hand, the spell wouldn't have worked. It didn't call for slaughter, theft, or murder. It called for sacrifice. You didn't take my hand, love. I gave it to you."

She closed her eyes and let herself feel everything around her. It was too much for her to take in.

"All this for a bloody hand?" he asked playfully, his voice gentle. "I went for centuries without, and frankly I've missed my hook."

She laughed, but this time, a smile came with it. A weight lifted, and she opened her eyes to see Killian staring back at her. And just like that, her inborn magic surged inside her, displacing the darkness.

Emma was still the Savior of the Realm, even curled up on the stone floor with a pirate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old salt is a slang term for an experienced mariner.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this episode, "Line Crossing," references the Line-crossing Ceremony common to many nautical tradition, where Pollywogs (sailors who have yet to cross the equator) are inducted into the Court of Neptune as Shellbacks (sailors who have crossed the equator).
> 
>  
> 
> Fear not! For Her Dark Works continues with a special two-part finale, Episode #21 "[Shipshape and Bristol](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6330910/chapters/14505640)"!


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